Challenge 4: Feed the birds

There’s a girl, sitting under the willow tree, with a plastic bag of dried up old bread getting wet on the leaf litter and soil next to her. For that matter, she’s getting wet too.

That girl is me. I wonder where the ducks are. This time of year? There are meant to be ducks everywhere. Duck shooting season, etcetera, etcetera, I know. But they haven’t killed all the ducks. They can’t’ve.

She makes a pretty sad sight, in the bright sunshine with hands clasped around knees and that forlorn look as her eyes search the river. Is that a hint of tears?
Normally, I wouldn’t cry about ducks. It’s just not been a good day, and the ducks are always here. I spend an afternoon here with the ducks every week. My family can be counted on to be that careless with their food supplies. When they haven’t been, I sneak a few slices of the fresh loaf away, hoping no one will notice.

Sometimes I take the good stuff anyway, because I feel sorry for the ducks.

She’s crying now. Leaning against the bug-laden tree trunk. Burying her face in her knees.

I’m hoping like hell no one will walk past and notice. Or maybe I'm hoping they'll come and ask what's wrong.

I know there’s a construction site further upstream. Maybe the ducks couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’re all lying there poisoned by construction effluent. What a horrific sight that would be!

Don’t go to look.

I can’t. It’s not far, but it’s on the other side of the park, and there are lots of trees, and I’ve been warned about walking through lots of trees! There’s a fundamental rule about not walking through trees that all girls get taught. It’s the same as the one about not going out in the dark and not getting into strangers’ cars and not wearing short skirts, though I suspect the latter was only fundamental in my family.

I would like to see where the ducks are, though.

She gets up and wanders further into the park. I want to tell her not to. I know what happens when a girl wanders around in there by herself. But he can’t be in there. Surely he can’t, because I’m already dead and the ducks have already gone.
But she comes running back again. Running back so fast she scares the ducks away, only where did the ducks come from? They were scared away last time. I don’t know how they keep coming back. I never see them come back. She doesn’t see them either, she just sits down and dies and I wake up again with blood on my skirt getting the bread bag soaked and the ducks are gone. Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I don’t. I still don’t know how it started. But first I have my cry, and then I know I've got to go and look for the ducks.

The bag gets a little bloodier and the bread gets a little drier every time.

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Word count: 475

Challenge 3: Seduction?

"...far more time together than you'd expect. And...well...his daughter, Sonja, says Simon's over there all the time. Everyone else in the lab seems to think something's going on too. It's just that I'm the only one who remembers when we first met him and he introduced himself as your fiance...he hasn't said anything about it since. I just thought you should know..." Alexis was cleaning her fingernails rather determinedly. "I wasn't trying to interfere."

Jack wished the slow churning feeling in her stomach would go away.
"Damn Michael," she managed to say.

Alexis cleaned her fingernails for a few more seconds, then, hesitantly: "It's not Michael. Simon knows what he's doing. I've met both of Michael's wives - he's not some kind of...predator. Sarah, the first, knew what he was like. Maybe she didn't find out until after they were married...but Jessica knew what he was like early on - he's got a reputation. She married him anyway." She sighed. "He wouldn't have done anything so openly if Jessica were still alive, but everyone in the lab knew he'd be moving on to the next one now she's gone. So I warned Simon."
"What?" Jack was almost too tired to care.
"Not obviously, but they were already getting along really well and I was worried. I told him Professor Collins had been married twice - what I told you now. About the rumours. He didn't care."

Damn Michael. She'd heard about him, too, but she'd never seen him as a threat to Simon. Michael knew they were engaged, for fuck's sake. And now, when Simon had lost his family and was already vulnerable...

He'd been coping surprisingly well until now, even though they hadn't been as close, not when he was being so fucking philosophical and depressed at the same time. It was too much, even for Jack, to spend all day with him when he was being like that. Maybe it was her own fault, but she just couldn't see how to reason with him, and he'd said that was okay. Maybe Michael had a hold on him even from that first day, when the world had exploded around them and she hadn't been there.

And damn Alexis, too.

"Simon's family..."
The other girl hesitated again, waiting to see if she'd finish. "I've seen Michael with his son. This isn’t the same sort of relationship."

Were they both in on it? Alexis and Professor Collins? No, because they wouldn't get anything from it. No, it must be true. But Alexis was trying to make Simon out to be the monster because she didn’t see how awful Michael really was. Jack hadn’t spent much time in the lab, but everyone knew Alexis was Michael's favourite student...
“Why are you telling me? Do you think I should’ve kept a better rein on him, is that it? You think I told Simon to snare your professor?”
“Shit, no, Jack!” Alexis stood up. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t like everyone else knowing what was going on when Simon hadn’t even said anything to you. If you ask me, it’s disgusting that he doesn’t even have the decency to talk to you about it.”

Maybe she wanted to get Jack out of the way so she could have Simon to herself...

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Word count: 550
Acknowledgements to Anistasya for the background story and characters :)

Challenge 8

Third to First

Rewrite a part of an old story of your that was originally in the third person in first person (or vice versa). When you're making this change, count the number of hes or shes (or Is) in the original piece. Reduce the number by half in the rewrite. Use a relatively small section of a story or novel.

Wordcount: 500 (+/- 10%)

Challenge 7: The lottery

Mrs Anderson works in other people's homes. Caring for other peoples children. She works long hours with very little time for herself let alone her children. But it has to be done to give her children the education required to get them better lives than she has. Her one luxury is the lottery ticket she buys each week. She never wins, but it helps to have something to hope for. Mr Anderson works long hours too. He fixes pools and always smells of chlorine. Mrs Anderson is aware that he is unfaithful to her with at least one woman at every house he works for, but for her children and the money he earns that is required to keep the family afloat she stays. Mrs Anderson has an Ace up her sleeve too. She is prepared for the day she miraculously has enough money to support her two children without Mr Anderson. She has evidence of Mr Anderson's infidelity and her parents insisted on a pre-nuptual agreement that states that if he is unfaithful to her the marriage can be dissolved quickly and she gets pretty much everything. Mr Anderson didn't read the agreement. He was a silly young boy when he married Mrs Anderson. So was she for that matter but her parents, who thankfully never lived to see their fears about Mr Anderson come true, they were prepared for him. They were not going to loose their daughter over an unsuitable marriage. They were not rich people, but they had a friend who was a lawyer who helped them with the agreement. Mrs Anderson even offered her employer a draft of the agreement when they were getting worried about it. She got a nice bonus out of that, which bought her children their school things for the year as well as her lottery ticket. She gets these bonuses from time to time, mostly due to the fact that her employer's children don't think she speaks English, only Spanish. She does, of course, her Spanish is a bit better than her English but she does speak perfectly good English. Mr Anderson doesn't speak Spanish at all, but their children do. Mrs Anderson's parents insisted on it and Mrs Anderson agreed. Mr Anderson didn't mind, and in the early days of their marriage he even tried to learn himself. It was when he stoped trying to speak Spanish that Mrs Anderson knew she had lost him.

Mrs Anderson takes her usual break to check her lottery ticket at midday. She cannot believe it. She has won! The grand prize of more money than she has ever seen in her life! She calls her employer and lies, telling them she is not feeling well so that she can go home and tell her children. When she arrives home she hears noises that she does not like from her daughter's bedroom. She opens the door to find her 15-year-old daughter in bed with a boy of at least twenty-five. Her daughter, unknown to her mother, has been seeing this boy for over a year now. She thinks they are in love. Her mother is shocked and immediately grabs a broom and chases the boy out of the house. Mrs Anderson faces her angry and upset daughter. “I will not scold you, but even if you do love this boy what you were doing is illegal.” she tells her daughter. “If he loves you, then he will wait.” she adds. “I am sorry I was not here sooner, but that is going to change. I am quitting my job. It is time I started caring for my own family and I am now rich enough to do so.” Her daughter looks at her, confused, “How are you rich enough?” she asks. “I won the lottery.” replies her mother. “I am going to take you and your brother away from here.” she adds. “So you do know about dad then.” replies her daughter. “Yes.” replies her mother. “Will you tell him we are leaving?” she asked her mother. “I am not sure, what do you and your brother think?” asked her mother. “I don't think you should tell him.” says her son from the doorway. “He is less our father than you have been our mother. You were sorry that you couldn't spend time with us. He never cared to.” “Then that is what we will do. The money will be in my account tomorrow. Where would you like to go?” asked their mother. “New York!” says her daughter, “I like that idea!” saus her son. “New York it is then.” replied their mother. “We can go to the bank in the morning to check the money is in my personal account and we will get our tickets and go.” “Just like that?” asked her daughter, “If you want we can wait, but I like the idea of a completely fresh start. Somewhere that I have never been just a housekeeper and you can be whoever you want to be.” Her daughter thought for a bit. “Tomorrow is good for me.” says her brother. “Me too.” replies his sister. “Done.”

Wordcount: 878

Challenge 7: The New York Girls

Danielle
I think Katherine knows why dad left, but she won’t say. She doesn’t say much of anything these days. She’s just this dark little waif who sits up in her room and reads, or does her homework, or helps mom with dinner. Isn’t it a bit weird, a ten-year-old being that good?

I asked mom once, what she thought was wrong with Katherine, but she didn’t really answer. She feels a bit guilty maybe. Last week, she came across a bunch of old VCR tapes from when us kids were little. She popped one in the machine while I was doing part of my folio on the lounge table. There was dad and Angelica, chasing each other around the garden with the hose and a couple of soggy dodgem balls. Kitten, as dad used to call her, was standing on the drive in her frilly little bikini, cheering him on. Her face was all glowing. I had forgotten how loud she used to be. Mom turned it off, not long after that. She tried to hide it, but her eyes were all glittery and she was holding her breath, like if she let it out she’d start crying. I turned around so she wouldn’t know I saw. I painted over everything in black.

Angelica
Why is nothing where I left it? I swear, Danielle is out to make my life a living hell. She doesn’t even wear Crimson Sunset. Her lips are always black, just like her nails, her eyeliner and that bloody perfect hair that falls down over her eyes in class to make her look like that horror chick from The Ring.

Fuck!

I have a date tonight too! I swear I’ll kill her one day. She laughs at me for dating college guys, but then she goes all red as soon as I mention the jocks at our school. She’s kidding herself if she thinks she has a chance with James. He’s just too English and definitely too stuck up for anyone. He didn’t even pretend to care when I told him, in no uncertain terms, that just because I was the head of the cheerleading squad and he was the captain of the football team, it didn’t give him the right to think he owned me. I like my men a little more mature than that anyway.

Brenda (Mom)
So busy! Arthur is pulling all-nighters to get the bank’s security systems up and running here in our New York branches and father insists that I supervise. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s trying to set me up with the guy. Not that I would object, so to say, but I can’t imagine how the girls would take it. Arthur is such a gentleman though. He’s from England. One of the best guys in the business. Moved here after his wife died. He has three boys of his own, actually. They go to the same school as my girls. I wonder if the kids know each other?

Why are the lights still on in the kitchen? Oh shit, the front door is unlocked. It’s after midnight! Check the girls. Katherine is asleep, little angel. She looks so much more peaceful when she sleeps. And there’s Danielle, tossing about. Her hair will be a sight come morning. Her and Angelica will probably have a bloody screaming match over who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first. I honestly don’t believe those girls have a cooperative bone in their bodies. Good thing I won’t be here to worry about it. Gotta be back at the bank first thing to make sure Arthur gets his morning coffee. Oh dear, the president’s daughter is turning into a secretary for the security architect… somebody shoot me before I make a fool of myself and propose or something equally terrible.

Wait, what was I doing? Oh yes, front door… ANGELICA!!!

Katherine
The night time is peaceful, usually. Mother is home late, again. She has a funny look on her face, like someone who is looking down over the edge of a cliff and realizing just how high up she really is. She is cross with Angelica, but maybe she is also cross with herself.

Now she’s gone from the doorway. Her footsteps are plodding down the hall to Angelica’s room. She won’t find anyone inside. Angie has gone to play with the big boys. She wants to feel special. It’s her way of missing dad. Danielle doesn’t understand.

The nights keeps moving. Danielle’s breath is uneven, over there on the spare bed. She is dreaming about her boyfriend, the way he touches her, just like that… They get all close and cuddly in the music room at lunch time. It’s out of bounds but he’s a senior and the captain of the football team, so nobody notices. Danielle thinks that she is keeping me safe, sleeping in here. We have enough rooms for everyone to be alone, but sometimes, it’s nice to know someone cares enough to try and fight away the nightmares.

Morning makes it better. A new day, maybe a pretty sunrise. Who knows what they’ll try to teach us at school. Always keep moving, keep thinking. Don’t look back.

Wordcount: 872

Challenge 7

Family Consciousness
In a short piece of prose, dip into the consciousness of a family. Rather than one or two distinct points of view, this fiction should allow us into the minds of a marriage with children (old or young). This will be different than limited omniscience because a family can reasonably know a good deal about the goings-on of its various parts. You could also used the royal we as an occassional pronoun to make general pronouncements.

Wordcount: 800 (+/- 10%)

As always I look forward to seeing what you write!
As this is so vague I will add another day for answers. You now have until 4-5pm on the 27th (NZ time as always).

Challenge 6: Secrets of the Desert

We ran away.

There is something important out here in the desert, we can feel it. Tynan pulls his cloth a little tighter around his face, Tasya checks the water bottle. There is not much left. If we can’t find more soon, we will be in trouble. We push on, since we can’t go back. Everyone is fighting over us back there. They want Tynan dead because he can do magic, and boys shouldn’t be able to touch the spirit world. They want Tasya queen and she hates crowds. She likes to dance and fight and do tough girl things. She will get us through this.

We stop when the night takes over. Tynan says he can feel the water in the air. It is so close. He sits up all night trying to find a way to borrow the water from the clouds, high above us, and maybe from the wind. Tasya sleeps, lips cracking, hoping she will have more energy in the morning.

The feeling drags us on, further into the barren wastelands. It is calling us. Tasya has a little more spring in her step today, Tynan managed to condense a few extra drops of water for them. There are bags under his eyes though, it cost him a lot to do.

We push on, and on, missing papa and aunty Willow. They will be worried, but we didn’t have a choice really. Too many people are still so angry. We think that the answer is out here somewhere, perhaps beyond the black spine of mountains spewing smoke and ash. Tynan thinks, if we make it through hell, we will find what we are looking for.

Who knew the desert was so cold at night? We huddle together, warmed by the fire Tynan keeps in a bottle. We think about mother, each hearing the other’s thoughts, seeing the other’s memories.

Mother was beautiful, tall, at least to a child, with dark eyes that seemed to go on forever. She could see inside us, she knew what we were feeling and how much we loved her. She loved papa very much too. She went away two years ago. Papa told us she had died, but we can still feel her. She is here, in the desert, and up there in the sky. We are going to find her.

Tasya brushes her dirty blonde hair out of her face, staring at the flickering light, trapped inside the bottle. Tynan watches her, thinking, we don’t belong here.

In the desert?

No. In Tyria. Here on this planet…

There is that word again. Tynan said it once, a long time ago, and papa didn’t understand. Planet. We close our eyes sometimes and think of the sky. It is almost like we can step off the earth and look back at ourselves, and then we see this big round ball with all the people and the animals and the oceans. Papa asks us why, if we live on a ball, the land looks flat. We aren’t too sure just yet. Maybe the answer to that is out here in the desert too.

Tasya watches the sunrise. She is looking back. We don’t normally look back. Tynan give her a moment and then starts packing things back into our bags. He stands up just in time to see the morning light glitter off something in the black land. We are nearly there.

Wordcount: 569